Fan Mail - Little Brother, Joe Scudda, Darien Brockington

Rapper Pooh’s in the motherfuckin buildin

Phonte’s in the buildin, Joe Scudda’s in the buildin

DJ Babu’s on the motherfuckin BEAT!

From NC, to LA

«Regulatin this game, fuck a critic

Cause when I’m spittin, I’mma split your shit in!»

Here we go, yo niggas tryna box me in

How the fuck am I suppose to win?

Bruh, Poobie stay cool like I’m West Coast pimpin with Schwinn

I’mma keep doin me, I just pimp with a pen

Til the day that I reach my end

I’mma always do me first, fucker 'fore I let you in

Ronnie J. is my next-to-kin, and to be frank

Muh’fuckers I ain’t take it from him (take it from him)

I done been criticize, critique to stone

Even had people tell me I should leave it alone

How you gon throw rocks, but you don’t want the throne

Try and keep a nigga outta his zone

You ain’t never wrote a rap in your life

Or even had the balls to put yourself on the mic

But you talk about ME?

If I talk about you, you won’t buy my CDs'

I’m talkin 'bout y’all, tell me what it’s gon be

WHAT?!

(Holla, holla, holla, holla)

I’m just huuuuman

I’m onnnnly a maaaaaaaan…

And I’m doooooin the best that I caaaaan, yeah…

I was yooooou, would you pleeeease understand, yeah…

{"Regulatin this game, fuck a critic

Cause when I’m spittin, I’mma split your shit in

Yeah, J-O

Aiyyo I’m sick of all the whinin and the bitchin

I swear you act like a bunch of ladies

Cause all you every do is cry like a bunch of babies

Do you really think that y’all opinion with Joe will switch my flow?

You fuckin crazy

You done fell down and bumped your head

You can suck my dick, that’s what the fuck Joe said

Simple and plain, I wanted you to catch that shit

I said it, I meant it, so NO I don’t regret that shit

But I still got fans that keep it real with Joe

They love my cocky persona and the ignorant flow

They say, «Fuck 'em, get ignorant Joe»

My manager told me to murder everything, so I’m killin 'em Dho

And I’on’t really give a fuck if you quote my shit

But it’s me, and I should know cause I wrote my shit

Guess this game, truly is the gift and a curse

You said you hate me so I KNOW you gon love this verse, what?!

Peace to D.P.'s and Alchemist

And this is dedicated to them bastard which

Gave me and the crew they ass to kiss

That’s why I’m bout to be reborn, this verse is just a Braxton-Hicks

(C'mon) Just imagine if, you spend your whole life working hard

And still had niggas hatin and frontin

Everybody, yeah they own your shit, but got they bones to pick

Like we was playin Operation or sumthin

Maybe then you might lose it, get a little madder

Wanna choke a nigga, maybe slap a cracka

Maybe rethink your whole strategy and be like

«Fuck these rap geeks, I’m rhymin wit Project Pat-a»

I know that’s probably too much for y’all

I can tell all the nerves that I’m touchin on

I’m just stayin on my grind like bicuspids, dawg

I ain’t got time to fuck wit y’all, I’m doin ME, c’mon